


Sick and Seductive

by LovingAlex



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute, Gen, Happy Birthday Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, Not Epilogue Compliant, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Sick Harry Potter, Sickfic, Silly, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24556378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovingAlex/pseuds/LovingAlex
Summary: While chasing down a criminal, Harry is hit by a sick-inducing curse. What he wasn't expecting is for Draco Malfoy to be his nurse...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96





	Sick and Seductive

**Author's Note:**

> I’m posting this today to celebrate Draco’s Birthday! Happy birthday our lil ball of anxiety and sass!
> 
> Disclaimer: I have no idea how hospitals work, let alone wizarding ones .-. So I did a mix/hospital with a wizard twist?? I’ve seen enough shows and spent enough time in them I got a general consensus of what’s going on… hopefully…

Harry is running after the quickly retreating back of a greasy weasel of a man when it happens. He turns a corner after him, not thinking -- like the idiot he is, as Hermoine will surely scold him over later-- and is hit by a spell right in the chest.

The impact sends him stumbling backwards into two of the other auroras that were with him, the third one slipping past to continue the pursuit. Not like it helped. The man got too much distance on them, it’d be impossible to catch up before he makes it to an apparition-safe area. What was the guy’s name again? It‘s on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. The world was too busy spinning. Blood rushed out of his head and he had just enough time to register the feeling of dizziness before the cobbled road came up to meet him. 

  
  


**-:-:------** ~ ~ # 

  
  


When Harry comes to next, it takes what feels like hours to figure out where he is. It’s most likely only been a couple of minutes at most, his mind is too foggy to tell.

The bright room doesn’t help the pounding in his head he woke up to. Distantly, he remembers what happened, guessing that he’s most likely at St. Mugos. He tries to move a bit to look around his room when a voice speaks up from next to him.

“Don’t try to get up. You need to rest. I’ve just finished giving you a dosage of pain relieving potion.”

The voice is silky and flat and… a bit familiar. Not too deep, but distinctly male. Harry stops moving his sore body, only going as far as turning his head to see who was talking. A man stands at his right side, a floating parchment and quill next to him writing down a few things. The man wiggles a tiny empty vial at him. 

“See? You should fall asleep again soon, Mr. Golden Boy. Wouldn’t want our little savior dying over a simple bad fever curse, now do we?”

Harry blinks at him a few times. Was he wearing his glasses? He’s pretty sure he wasn’t. What a sight he made, squinting at the healer, face flushed with the fever he can feel thumping in his head, hair all messed up from sleep.

The man must expect Harry not to answer. He shakes his head, pushing his braid of platinum blond hair back over his shoulder before grabbing the floating parchment and quill from the air and all but _sauntering_ out of the room.

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to finally realise he had just spoken to Draco Malfoy. His old rival. Someone he hasn’t spoken to since the war.

_Huh… I didn’t know Malfoy became a healer…_ is the last sluggish thought that passes his mind before he goes under once again.

  
  


D > ~ ~ **\------:-:-**

  
  


It’s been eight years since the war. After grueling community service, probation limitations, and overwhelming amounts of studies, Draco has become a healer at St. Mugos. Not the most accomplished healer there-- no, he’s still rather low on that pyramid scheme until he gets more years of experience-- but he’s still in a rather comfortable position above a simple nightmaid and under a surgeon’s assistant. 

He comes up to the door to the next patient on his rounds. “H. J. Potter -- Febris Maledictum,” reads the nameplate and description of his ailment. It was a bit odd caring for his childhood rival. Not to mention the bloody savior of the wizarding world. His mark gets ghost pains even to this day. What’s left of it, at least. Most of the design has been slashed and mangled during his worst panic attacks right after the war. 

Draco takes a fortifying breath before entering.

The sight that greets him is not expected at all. Somehow, Potter was able to finagle a mountain of extra pillows from the healer on duty before Draco. He knows the sick boy didn’t just duplicate them because they’re specifically made charm resistant. It helps keep magically ill patients from contaminating the cushions and easier to sanitize. 

Potter can’t be seen anywhere beneath the mound of pillows covering every inch of the bed.

“What are you doing under there?” he asks. Draco goes to the head of the bed and moves some pillows, but finds bare boney feet. Decidingly _not_ a head. He can at least tell Potter is on his stomach, if the bottom of his feet are any indication. The skin along the bottom is a few shades lighter than the rest of his skin and the soles callused from being active.

Confused, Draco puts the pillow back and goes to the foot of the bed instead. Moving one of the pillows reveals Potter’s flushed face, stuffy red nose, and very crooked glasses. Who gave him his glasses? Draco will really need to have a talk with the healer on shift before him.

“Fight me, you _\--uh--_ you brute!” Potter garbles, half mumbled a bit by a pillow.

Draco raises his eyebrow. “ _I’m_ the brute? You really are delusional, Potter.” He wandlessly charms his paper and quill to float, magically scribbling down notes about the patient’s condition.

“Fight meeeeee,” the boy --he’s still too childish to be considered a man-- whines pitifully.

“Maybe later,” Draco sighs nonchalantly while removing all the extra suffocating pillows. It’s obvious that Potter is in no way planning to go back to laying on the bed correctly, so he just switches the blankets and pillows around to accommodate him. The extra pillows are sent off to be sanitized and restocked into the supply closets.

Potter is already passed out again by the time he’s done and ready to leave. With one lingering look, he moves onto the next room.

  
  


**-:-:------** ~ ~ < H

  
  


The next time Malfoy comes back in, Harry is laying on the bed the right way again. It was harder to breathe while laying on his stomach, anyways.

He’s still a bit out of it, but the world is definitely clearer than it was before. Which isn’t just because he’s wearing his glasses now. 

Malfoy doesn’t say anything. He just floats that paper thing that reminds Harry too much of Rita Skeeter for his comfort and begins checking Harry’s vitals without a word. The silence is weird. Malfoy isn’t Malfoy unless he’s being sassy and bickering with him.

Harry misses the bickering. It’s been years of people only seeing him as some savior up on a golden pedestal. He misses being seen as anyone other than perfect golden boy Gryffindor who can do no wrong, so he asks Malfoy to fight him like he did the day before. 

At least… he _tries_ to challenge Malfoy to a fight. He’s only half way through the sentence before some of his mucus decides it’s a good time to roll down the wrong pipe in his throat. He starts hacking and coughing, spasming with the force as his body tries to get the sludge out of his burning lungs. His eyes water a bit at the effort.

Malfoy slips a hand beneath his shoulder and helps sit him up so it’s easier for him. The blond’s hand is surprisingly gentle at rubbing his back. He unconsciously relaxes at the touch. This is the exact opposite of how they used to be, of what Harry was trying to accomplish... but Harry kinda... _likes_ it. The comforting touch makes him feel all warm and fuzzy.

Though that might just be the fever and meds talking.

Once he’s caught his breath, he pushes the tingly feeling aside and tries his challenge again. It doesn’t really come out the same way he planned. 

“Why won’t you fight me?” 

And no he does _not_ sound like a whiny child, thanks.

Malfoy tilts his head to the side a little, looking Harry up and down before answering. “There’s little point to fighting you when I know you’ll win.”

With that, Malfoy snatches his notes out of the air and after turning on his heel like the graceful arse he is, strolls out of the room. Thus leaving Harry sitting there with his face flushing with what he suspects is more than just a fever. Damn traitorous body.

  
  


# ~ ~ **\------:-:-**

  
  


On the third day they announce Harry fit enough to leave again. No more threat of him drowning in his own mucus while he sleeps and his fever now down to more manageable levels.

His head healer did one last check up before releasing him to change back into his daily clothes and sign out. The prescription they signed to him is waiting to be given on his way out.

As he fixes the collar of his coat, he notices a little something left for him on the bedside table. Sitting there next to his watch and wallet, is a little coffee cup from the gift shop downstairs. On the side of it, written in neat swirling handwriting between the large logos, is “Tea for your throat. Then maybe we can schedule that fight you wanted so bad --M,” and bellow it an owling and floo address. 

A smile tugs at the corner of Harry’s lips and he takes a sip of the warm tea. 

This was going to be the beginning of something rather interesting...

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, the beginning of my descent into the Drarry void... I already have quite the number of stories planned out for these two, including an outsider POV and a crack series lol
> 
> But anyways, if anyone has any comments or thoughts on how I did with the whole hospital mechanics, please tell me in the comments! I’ve fallen in love with Healer!Draco, so I’d love some feedback for reference if/when I write any more stories with the trope :)


End file.
